


Ghetto Boy

by post_tenebras_lux



Series: don't wake me til i'm holdin' you [1]
Category: Empire (TV 2015)
Genre: And Shyne's just an overprotective (somewhat possessive) asshole, And love, Angst and Smut, BAMF Andre Lyon, BAMF Nessa Parker, Bipolar Disorder, But we'll get there, Eventual Tiana & Nessa Friendship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forever Unfinished Lucious and Cookie, He just needs help, M/M, Other characters may be added, Possessive Andre Lyon, Slightly AUish, They Got Some Shit To Deal With, We'll See As The Story Goes On, if only he lets bae love him a bit longer, it doesn't matter though cuz Andre's possessive too, lots of love, since we really didn't see much of Andre and Nessa's relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2018-12-25 18:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/post_tenebras_lux/pseuds/post_tenebras_lux
Summary: From the moment they met, there had been something that instantly connected Nessa Parker to Andre Lyon, even though that had never been a part of the plan. Follow the narrative of their relationship behind closed doors, what the episodes may not have shown. Did Nessa truly fall for Andre as her reaction in their breakup showed? Was it truly all just a quest for control for Andre? Or is there more to his feelings than he originally wanted to admit to? And what happened after their breakup? Is it really as over as either wants to believe?





	1. sit still look pretty

When Nessa buried her brother Stone and Shyne officially took over watching out for her, she hadn’t considered music as a career, believe it or not. Music was Shyne’s calling, not hers. It wasn’t even something she could classify as being passionate about. Nessa had had plans for accounting, math. That’s what she liked: the numbers. No matter which way you crunched them in, numbers never lied. She learned to count all the way up to one-hundred before kindergarten and she had skipped all the way to fourth grade because she was reading, writing, and solving math problems on that level, not a second grader’s. She preferred doing her math homework before reading because reading had always been boring. An easy task, sure, but not as interesting as numbers. They stimulated her. They made her excited to learn because there was always something new to learn, something more to absorb. They always gave her something – something to strive to, something to create. They were constant and consistent, which was a lot more than she could say for the majority of the people in her life. Everyone she loved always ended up either dead or just gone, and she could never follow them. She had neither the courage to end things herself and be with her mother and brother, nor the stupidity to forget all of her street smarts and become besties with a bullet because she talked shit to the right thug. It wasn’t written in her code.

So, she had had every intention of getting the hell out of Philly and moving on with her life. She was going to attend some super prestigious, probably super white school with some holier-than-thou racists who claimed to not see race which was going to be fine because she would claim that she didn’t even see them, maybe pledge a black sorority if they had them on campus, land a job as a quantitative financial market analyst (and yes, she had actually researched it and yes, knew what companies she was looking to work with), and she was going to be done with Shyne and this life. She had given him a good portion of her childhood, if not all of it. Nessa cooked all of the meals, washed his clothes (and even the bloody ones without asking where the blood came from), tended to both his bruised body and ego when he ran at the mouth to the wrong person, and she remained grateful for how much he had looked out for herself and her brother. However, Nessa fucked up. When Vanessa buried her brother, Stone, what she forgot not to do was to sing her brother’s favorite song during the ceremony when Shyne was there. She had thought that it was sweet, sending the one person she loved more than life itself off with the euphonious chords of “His Eyes Are on the Sparrow” following him into the afterlife. What she hadn’t realized was that it was the final nail in the coffin and the worst part of it was that it hadn’t been her brother’s coffin.

It had been her own.

“Shyne, I’m tellin’ you, that ain’t for me,” Nessa had complained some weeks later. They were at the apartment he had shared with herself and Stone; her brother’s belongings sat on the floor in boxes Nessa still didn’t know what to do with. She stood before the stove, clad in only a pair of basketball shorts – and they actually managed to fit her and only because she had their mother’s hips – and a baggy sweatshirt, both having belonged to her dearly departed sibling. Nessa still remembered stealing them the first time and Stone having a whole ass fit. He forgot all about said fit when she made him some banana pudding for himself. Shyne hadn’t been too happy about that. He liked when Nessa cooked, too. It just so happened that at the moment, Shyne could seemingly give two fucks about anything Nessa did if it wasn’t singing.

“Damn right it ain’t for you, Nessa,” he had said, dipping his finger into the boiling hot spaghetti sauce. Nessa pretended that she didn’t feel right satisfied when he let out a small yelp; she hated when Stone did it once before and threatened hot grits to be thrown on him should he try again. There was only one instance where she had actually done so. Luckily for both men, it wasn’t either of them that had gotten burnt. Immediately sucking the finger into his mouth, Shyne fixed her with a look, tasting the sweetness along with the spices before speaking again. “It’s for us – for Stone. You really gonna let his dream die cuz you wanna be in some fancy pansy ass house, living like a little Oreo saying ‘no massa’ and ‘yes massa’ just to fit in for the rest of your life?” Nessa sighed, stirring the sauce, in irritation. This was the second time he had brought up some damn slave narrative. As if he wasn’t treating her like a whole ass slave his damn self.

“It ain’t about the fucking house!” Shyne’s immediate “Watch your mouth!” made her bristle, but Nessa sucked in a shaky breath before continuing, quieter - pleading. “That was y’all dream. The music, the lights, all the flexin’ in the world – that was y’all. Y’all spent hours in the studio working on all of that and it’s dope, Shyne. Everything you do is fire, you know that and I know that. I was there, yeah, but I was always there…with my notebook. With homework. That’s my world. There ain’t nothing for me in any of this.”

“There’s Stone.” Nessa’s eyes shut of their own accord.

It never failed that Shyne never heard her, never cared to, really. It had always been up to Stone, after all, to get it through Shyne’s head that Nessa was her own woman. That yes, they appreciated everything that he had done for them and that yes, Stone would work with and for him. He always wanted to work with him. They made good music together and found really dope artists. Nessa remembered sitting on one of the couches while one of her own classmates spit bars for Shyne, nodding along to the music that Shyne helped make for the guy. But she had also nodded along while studying trigonometric functions and wondering if her paycheck from her part-time job, combined with babysitting payout, was going to be enough to pay for the AP classes she wanted so that her grades could look better. They were good for where they had come from and for all the work that she did, but she knew she needed more if she really wanted to stand out. They had to. And Stone had understood that. Hell, he had wanted that life for her. They had even talked it through and his echo of his pride reverberated through her still, a tremor of hope running through her for better that Shyne seemed to only want to yank from her very core. Loyalty was a damning thing, shackling you to the mind-forged manacles of a permanent state of gratitude and appreciation that only a manipulator could put you in. And it sucked because in the crevices of her mind, Nessa knew that the no-nonsense chick her classmates knew her as – the one mostly everyone knew her as – was throwing an entire fit in her cage, rightfully enraged and irrevocably displeased.

“All of this – it’s him. It always will be. Nessa, he put his blood, sweat, and tears into all of this and it was for you. For your mama. For every part of him that wanted better for you and for us and for every person out in these streets just trying to make it. That don’t gotta die with him.” Nessa didn’t look at Shyne for a long time, but when his silence continued – the weight of it causing a dull ache in her back – she turned back to him, meeting his gaze. “Your voice gonna be heard, girl. It’s gonna change the world.” Your world, she should have said. It’s gonna change your world. But Nessa didn’t say anything.

* * *

Hakeem wasn’t even a factor and the poor baby didn’t even know it. 

Nessa could honestly say that she wasn’t the type to lead anyone on and it was the last thing she would claim that she was doing. She honestly wasn’t even attracted to Hakeem in that way. What Nessa had more of than boyfriends were boys who happened to be friends. That was it, that was what she needed them for. The ones she really wanted knew that she wanted them; she was rather upfront about those things. And the ones who wanted her? Well, she was blunt about that too because unless she was too drunk to remember her lack of attraction to them during sobriety, it just wasn’t going to happen. Which sucked because underneath it all, Hakeem was cool people. Genuinely. He still flexed, that much was certain. He was an annoying flirt and he thought he was slick with all of the leering, but he wasn’t. Maybe some other “young, dumb, thirsty thot-bucket,” as she had called them, would be dumb enough to not pay attention, but it wouldn’t be Nessa if she wasn’t at least somewhat observant of her environment. Sadly for Hakeem, she wasn’t the only one.

“Not gonna happen, Nessa,” he had declared the second they were in his truck. Hakeem had gotten her to agree to come chill with some of his friends later, the slow glide of his tongue across his lower lip a silent promise of what he expected to doing with her later on. It wasn’t going to happen, but Nessa had just agreed because she needed a drink. “You ain’t here to get some punk ass little dick wet.” Nessa rolled her eyes, shooting him a small smirk.

“Chill, Shyne. It ain’t even like that with Hakeem for me and you know that,” she reassured him, elbow posed against the glass of the passenger side window, head resting in her palm. The Brazilian kinky-curly sew-in felt soft against the palm of her hand, all twenty-two inches tied into a messy bun for the moment because of how hard she and Hakeem went in the studio. Music wasn’t exactly her everything, but she could vibe off of it. Could honestly say that she loved it. And with actual artists who she could vibe with and lose herself in the beats they could come up with together, she could almost forget her reluctance to be as involved as Shyne had demanded. 

Almost. 

“Yeah, it better not be,” he stated gruffly and again, Nessa rolled her eyes. This time, however, his already sour mood resulted in a snap of, “And fix you damn face. Havin’ a fucking attitude with me. Don’t forget who you fucking with.” Nessa’s countenance went blank then, the curve of her lips dropping into a thin line as she observed the man sitting beside her. Shyne’s boys sat in the back, silent and unhelpful. Then again, no one could really help a situation when Shyne himself didn’t seem to realize there was one in the first place. 

Shyne had always been the aggressive one. Much like Nessa, Stone had been the quieter one, more calculative. Shyne would act first – mostly act out, if you let Nessa tell the story. He was impatient and sometimes impulsive, always quick on the draw. It could be useful, if immediate intimidation was your tactic. It definitely gave him a reputation, so much so that when Tiffany back in high school had beef with Nessa because her boyfriend wanted to smash, her brother had only told her to pipe the fuck down. No one wanted to fuck with Shyne, not when he had a reputation for cocking whips on people at three in the damn morning when you were still in bed. Nessa had benefitted from that level of protection her entire life. She had also been stifled by it as well. His aggression only seemed to increase as his interactions with Lucious Lyon continued. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said after a few moments of tense silence, but Nessa wasn’t looking at him. She was sitting up straight, eyes focused ahead. They hadn’t pulled away from Empire’s headquarters just yet, so her gaze remained on the couple giggling over the hot dogs from the cart a few feet away from where they parked. When Shyne called her name, Nessa took a steadying breath before staring at him, expressionless, as he continued, “We got plans, Nessa, real plans. We talked about this. Lucious think he gonna walk all over us, but after that performance, he can’t ignore you now. Can’t pretend like you ain’t the next big thing out here. Other labels are gonna want you. We just gotta make sure that Empire’s the one that gets you…at a reasonable price.”

“I know.” 

“I see the way he look at you,” Shyne added and Nessa fought the urge to roll her eyes yet again. She settled for her leg shaking; it was a nervous tick she picked up from Stone when she was small. It didn’t really help in terms of settling her, but it had always been a tell when something was making her anxious. Shyne put her in a constant state of irrepressible anxiety. “The way they all look at you. You your mama’s kid, can’t ever deny that. We just don’t got time right now for distractions.” 

It was a constant reminder for her. Not the whole not having time for distractions thing; he had been saying that since she had turned twelve. Even if Shyne had never envisioned Nessa actually leaving him – leaving them – for her version of a better life, he hadn’t ever wanted her to get a boyfriend or really do anything if it included guys. Never mind the fact that Nessa had actually been bisexual and done a lot more with girls than she had guys before Shyne found out about her first actual relationship, which had been with this eventual drop-out named Clifton. Stone hadn’t been too thrilled either, but he wasn’t exactly the one waiting after school every time to see who had decided to walk Nessa home. But what he had always reminded Nessa from the second that puberty started for her was that she was her mother’s spitting image. Just when they baby fat had melted off, the curves had come in and Nessa could honestly say that she hadn’t known what to do with them. She definitely hadn’t known how to feel when Shyne was the one who kept pointing them out. It had made her nervous, made her dislike them. Shyne hadn’t paid as much attention to Nessa until she was wearing actual bras and her wide hips came in; he had left a lot to Stone. He was a controlling asshole, so of course he always had the final say in anything that happened to either of them. But Nessa with her darker complexion, hazel eyes, and developing body – and she had to appreciate the height that had come because had it not stretched her just a bit, she would be rounder, which wasn’t a bad thing but her lifestyle hadn’t exactly invited as much cardio at the time – she was more of their mother than Stone had ever been. Add in her style and how much she now put in more effort to her appearance, and Nessa was proud to say that her milkshake brought all of the boys to the yard. 

Shyne’s displeasure in it did start to bore her at some point. She just couldn’t pinpoint when exactly. 

“And I get that, Shyne, I do. You know I do. But you need to get this,” she said and narrowed her gaze. “I’m twenty two, not twelve. I can handle a few little boys. And I know the end goal here and Hakeem ain’t it.” And despite her reassurance, despite the self-induced celibacy she had put herself through in the last year after Shyne had literally whooped her last boyfriend’s ass simply because Nessa had gone on a date when he wanted to work on a track for Soundcloud – Shyne still looked unconvinced and Nessa was at a point where she was tired of trying. As she had already established, her job wasn’t to be heard unless she had a mic in front of her and a track blaring in her ears. Other than that, she wasn’t the one everyone needed to really focus on; that was Shyne. Regardless of how much he said that it was her voice that needed to be heard, the truth of the matter was that it was him who needed to be seen. Him who needed to be recognized. She was just being dragged along for the ride and maybe, just maybe, there was something in it for her as well. Once everything that he wanted was realized, then they could really focus on her – on what she wanted and who she wanted to be. Nessa had been content before at sitting still and looking pretty; she had had her books to keep her company. Without them, the silence was deafening, the air hot and oppressive. And what was worse was that Shyne wanted now to even dictate her friends. It made her want to laugh. Hakeem Lyon was not going to be a distraction. Nessa knew that and eventually Shyne would too.

What they didn’t know, though, that he had the wrong Lyon to be worried about in the first place.


	2. we were born in different rooms, but now we're here in the same room.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time that Nessa saw Andre wasn't at Shyne's studio. The first time Andre had been in awe of her didn't occur there either. It just so happened that the studio only solidified their interests. Also, Hakeem could be a dope friend if he just realized that that was all they could ever be.

_We were born in different rooms, but now we’re here in the same room_  
_My heart belongs to you, we’re connected_  
_Undivided_  
_You’re pulling on my heartstrings, running through my bloodstream_  
_I feel you, I feel you_  
_Oh, I feel you_  
_I feel you, I feel you,_  
_Oh, I feel you_

**I Feel You, iamhannalashay**

* * *

 

 

If Andre didn’t get a coffee in the next five minutes, he was going to give those damn police officers something to actually follow him for. Or, since it seemed to be their favorite pastime, actually use excessive force. They had no problem using it on him the first time.

It was turning out that if it wasn’t one thing, it was another and the headache Andre had fitfully tried to ignore through sleep yesterday returned. Lucious hadn’t helped by dragging all three of his sons on a ride to their old neighborhood, telling himself that he was teaching them a lesson. He hadn’t been. As Andre had wanted to call him on, Lucious had only wanted them to be like him – to use the parts of him that were inherently a part of themselves, regardless of their wants. And Andre wanted so very badly to not be anything like his father. Even when he felt the older man in the darker recesses of his mind, rattling the cage that he had so desperately carved himself when he had gotten the chance to get away at Penn, he shut his eyes and counted. It was a tick that not even Rhonda knew he had, but Andre counted. Math and statistics had always been his forte, but he had found a greater comfort in the surety of numbers. You couldn’t deny them – couldn’t take away their validity, even if you tried. They were steadying, grounding. And he had had to do it before he had growled at his father to open the fucking door before he tore it off his hinges.

Not exactly his finest hour, but at least it got him the result he wanted without actually putting hands on his father.

Still, though, if it wasn’t Lucious wanting him to act out in the “Lyon way,” it was the very reason why Lucious wanted him to act out in the first place. The police. Andre wouldn’t say that he was an all in all good boy. He wouldn’t. While Hakeem and even Jamal joked about how straight-laced he was, even underneath the plethora of suits he owned, Andre knew himself. He hadn’t developed a desire to take over Empire – his brothers be damned – with the ruthlessness he had out of nowhere, after all. As much as he liked to believe that he had truly escaped the thug mentality that was a part of his father’s teachings, they were still there. They never really went anywhere, even when he was trying to impress white classmates he knew for a fact never really liked him as much as they liked the appeal of being friends with Lucious Lyon’s son. But he wasn’t a criminal, not really. And he especially didn’t feel like dealing with his lawyer requesting that he take a plea deal. He hadn’t done anything. All Andre had done was go back to _his_ home to retrieve _his_ stuff from the home he had been trying to build with his now dead wife (and that was just one thing he _still_ wasn't trying to confront fully). That hadn’t warranted being body slammed into the ground. Andre could still feel the unforgiving glide of his cheek on the cold concrete, the burst of pain he felt as his body collided with the hard ground.

To say he was tempted by Cookie’s demand for revenge was an understatement.

And he really needed his fucking coffee, like yesterday.

  
A rather large cup of delicious dark nectar slid across the counter, ribbons of creamy white cascading to its bottom visible from the outside.

“A venti vanilla sweet cream cold brew.” Was called and Andre’s mouth practically watered. However, when he reached for it, another hand did as well and their fingertips brushed. The woman – he realized only a second later in lieu of the French manicure – jerked her hand back first, and hazel eyes flicked up to meet his.

To be fair, Nessa wasn’t actually paying attention because if she had, she would have known that it was Andre’s drink that had been called, not hers. He had come into the Starbucks first, after all. Nevertheless, she hadn’t been paying attention, a touch too distracted with texting Shyne to chill out. She hadn’t returned to his place last night (she refused to call his place _their_ place because she would be damned if she ever called it home when it felt like a goddamn military base most of the time). Hakeem had thrown another kickback (and Nessa had half the mind to tell him that he seriously needed to chill with all the partying if he really had a baby waiting for him), and she had seen it as an excuse to not deal with Shyne. She loved the man, she truly did. But after he had snatched her up by her neck in front of Hakeem in one of Empire’s studios, she needed the personal space. There were a lot of things Nessa tolerated, but she was pasty eighteen. She didn’t have to put up with any man putting their hands on her, regardless of what they might have done with her. If she was ready to come to blows because a bitch put their hands on her, Shyne definitely didn’t need to be thinking that he was exempt from catching hands too. Which she had been ecstatic to tell him when they had gotten back to his place.

“Nigga, you betta listen to me now cuz I ain’t sayin’ it again,” she had hissed once the door was closed and they were alone.

His goons stayed downstairs to the other apartments they rented out while Shyne followed Nessa as she stomped up to their shared space. She had whirled on him just as the door closed behind him. With a finger pointed at him, eyes blazing, she continued, “If you _ever_ put your hands on me like that again, so help me God, we’re done. You can take all your guilt tripping and your bullshit because I promise you, Shyne, brother or no brother, I will pistol whip you til I can’t pistol whip yo ass no more. Got it?”

Shyne hadn’t looked too damn thrilled to be spoken like that, least of all threatened, but the sullen expression and the fact that it took him a minute to meet her gaze before nodding in understanding let her know that he had felt bad. Hakeem said he had looked ashamed the second she had walked out of the studio, but when he had met her downstairs in the lobby, Shyne hadn’t said a thing. No apology, no nothing. And instead of the hurt she had felt when his fingers had gripped her jaw too tightly, when for a brief moment it felt like the air had been slammed out of her, Nessa had felt rage. After a certain age, even Stone had stopped hitting her as a punishment. Sure, grabbing her by the arm had still been a thing and even Shyne was privy to it, but no one had really put their hands on her. And definitely not because she made a face or acted grown. As Stone had said, she was getting grown and they both had needed to respect it.

Shyne was still learning how to do that.

So, with all of the drinking and chilling they had done last night, Nessa had stopped answering her play brother’s calls because she was a grown ass woman who didn’t need to answer to him. Hakeem had readily agreed. She could tell that he felt uncomfortable with the idea of her returning to Shyne; drunkenly, he had even offered for her to stay in his apartment since he had enough room for her to do so. They had to work together anyway, he had surmised. She’d be much closer to Empire’s studios and could interact with more of the artists that they signed, get more opportunities for collaborations. The offer was tempting. It was a nice place – beautiful place, to be exact. But Nessa knew better. Staying with Hakeem, while a definitely kind offer and one she could get with because his crew could definitely be cool people, was a recipe for disaster with his current…fascination with her. Staying would encourage him. It was one thing to spend the night when there were several people staying with her. It would be a completely different thing when there was no one there but them – when there was a strong possibility of, god forbid, _either_ of his parents to see her trudging into the kitchen with one of the over-sized shirts she had stolen from Shyne and only that on. Nessa just didn’t think that was safe, especially not for her sanity.

The last thing she had anticipated was coming face to face with Andre Lyon at the Starbucks down the street from Hakeem. While everyone else were nursing hangovers and scrounging up what they could for breakfast since Hakeem knocked out and wouldn’t order them a big spread, Nessa had gotten the clothes out from the bag she brought with her, showered and headed out. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she remembered that there was a Starbucks nearby, she would’ve just gotten an Uber back to Shyne’s place. But there was hardly a morning she went without at least two cups of coffee and she was hungry. So, she had put her order in, receiving her six petite vanilla scones along with the apple fritter she knew would get Shyne off of her back. At least for a few minutes. It wasn’t like she had forgotten that Lucious was coming by Shyne’s studio later to talk. Nessa was definitely getting some real food before then, though. She just hadn’t meant to almost steal Andre Lyon’s cup of coffee on the way to do all of that.

And how the hell did she forget that the oldest Lyon brother was so _fine_?

“Shit, my bad,” she said, shooting him an apologetic look. “Wasn’t paying attention.” Andre smiled, waving it off, and she really had to remind herself that it was too early in the morning be thinking that that was definitely a sight she could appreciate. His whole package was being appreciated, if she were being honest, but still. The flash of straight white teeth should not have made her bite her lower lip.

“No, it’s good. You should take it.” Nessa shook her head quickly.

“No, you were here first. Obviously.” Seeing the barista making what Nessa believed to be her own drink, she glanced back at Andre, explaining, “It was the first time they even called the drink, so I know it can’t be mine.” Andre nodded, an appreciative smile on his face as he scooped the cup up, grabbing a straw as well. He looked like he was ready to leave and Nessa honestly should have let him go (there was no reason to keep this up when he clearly he had other important things to be doing than talking to her), but before he could wish her well, she painted on an inquisitive expression and asked, “You’re…Andre Lyon, right?”

Andre tried to not frown as quickly as he did. He was pretty sure, judging by the assessing look she gave, that he hadn’t succeeded.

“Umm, no pictures today, please.” Nessa snorted then, shifting so that both the little baggies for the pastries and her phone switched to her other hand.

“Wow, and they say your brother’s the egomaniac,” she remarked sarcastically and Andre huffed out a laugh. “And I thought you were supposed to be the charming one.”

“I am,” he said quickly and Nessa raised a teasing eyebrow. Andre wondered if she could see the pinks of his cheek from his immediate blush. “At least, I try to be.” Her resounding, “Mhmmm,” felt far too skeptical for him to just walk away from so he quickly added, “I’m sorry. It’s a thing – ”

“Don’t worry, baby boy, I get it.” Andre wouldn’t say he exactly startled when the nickname slipped past her lips, but he definitely found himself smirking – pleasantly intrigued – when he noted her very shameless expression. That didn’t stop him, though, from feeling like he needed to explain himself though he could not name the reason why.

“It’s been, uh, a long few days.”

“I bet.”

Nessa had heard about how Andre’s wife died. It was hard not to when it had been on the news. Rhonda had died on impact, the reporter had said. It was heartbreaking, really. Nessa still remembered when she heard the gunshots. It had resulted in a panic for her because she had known that Stone was outside. She was studying for an exam the next day, flash cards spread out on the counter beside her as she washed dishes. She hated seeing a pile of dishes the next day because neither Stone nor Shyne felt inclined to wash them the night before for whatever reasons they could come up with. And because Shyne was too cheap to let them put in for a dishwasher, she had settled for hand-washing. Nessa had already felt wary when she heard the police sirens sounding way too close for comfort before the gunshots rang out, echoing in the alley by their home. But then she heard the shouting and then gunshots and something cold had filled her long before she had run outside to see what had happened. It was the last thing Stone had told her to do, mind you, when she heard gunshots, but she had felt it. Knew that her brother was gone long before she had reached the body, shoving away Shyne when he tried to not let see the body. So, she could relate to the loss Andre must have felt, standing atop that hotel and seeing his wife plunge to her death. And then there was the current issue with the cops he was facing.

“Trust me, I definitely get it,” she continued, rolling her eyes when she glanced at her phone to see Shyne rushing her to get back yet again. They weren’t meeting with Lucious for another three hours; Shyne needed to chill the fuck out. Nessa had half the mind to tell him to smoke some weed because she knew he had some, but she simply left the man on read. “Besides, I had to be sure. I was not about to get dragged for the gods on The Shade Room cuz I stole Andre Lyon’s coffee.” Andre couldn’t help but laugh at that. It made Nessa smile.

“They wouldn’t.” Nessa snorted before fixing him with a look.

“Baby, I don’t know if you noticed but your family’s fans are all types of savage,” she told him, still smiling with a small giggle of remembrance. But Andre wasn’t focused on the thought of what she could be thinking of, not when he was actually paying attention to the fact that the woman before him was undeniably gorgeous.

It was hard to ignore the fact that she was a rather curvaceous young woman with the way the sweat-suit she wore clung to her shapely form, the black lines on the side of her grey bottoms emphasizing the length of her legs. She wasn’t exactly tall, but she wasn’t short either and her head came up just over Andre’s shoulders. The top, though somewhat baggy on her arms, hugged her ample bosom and revealed a nice stretch of deep brown skin on a trim waist. She was thick in all the ways those urban books he used to steal out of his father’s stash celebrated, but Andre was more focused on her face. Those almond-shaped eyes, more green than hazel until she caught the ray of a random light in a certain way, were dark but brightened at the moment in her mirth, and there was this residual baby fat on her face that made her seem younger. Her lips were painted a dark blue shade and white teeth peeked out from behind, though he noticed that she tried to cover her smile with her hand for some reason. Nessa had traded the wild curls from the night of Empire XStreme for a much sleeker look; the hair was still in the same shade as her natural black and was long, reaching the middle of her back, but it cascaded in large, soft curls. Andre couldn’t say for sure, with the way the hair blended into her scalp so effortlessly, that it was her hair. But he also knew how his mom was with even her wigs (he never said it aloud because he knew Hakeem would dog him out, but he had been convinced at least twice that Cookie really had dyed her hair).

What he did know, more than anything, that the woman before him made it somewhat impossible for him to remember that there was somewhere else he wanted to be and since all the shit that has been happening in his life lately started, this was the first time he was feeling that way.

“Are you staying nearby?” Was the first question was popped into mind, even as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was more than likely Lucious. Andre more than likely wasn’t going to answer at the moment. Nessa hummed and he finally dug his straw into his drink, taking a few sips of the drink he could’ve sworn he desperately needed before being confronted by the beauty before him.

“No, I was staying with a friend.” Why she didn’t tell him that said friend was his own little brother, Nessa didn’t know. The words had just come out before she could process them and by then, it was too late. It felt awkward and unnecessary now to add that it was Hakeem. “Had a small get-together and everyone else was a little too hungover to get up.” Andre raised an eyebrow and Nessa had to stamp back the impulse to say that it really wasn’t fair that he could give her that look and make her want to melt like this. Then again, it hadn’t helped her case that Andre Lyon apparently just had to look positively edible in the light blue dress shirt and dark blue pants, which matched with his blazer of the same shade as his pants. She ignored the fact that the top two buttons of the shirt were unbuttoned. Being caught looking at that slip of skin would’ve been too much without a sip of coffee.

“They have you on a coffee run?”

“As if,” she exclaimed derisively and Andre couldn’t help but grin at the face she made. “No, I, uh, have a meeting today with my play brother and some big shot he’s trying to impress. I’m already late with meeting with my bro, so I figured getting me some coffee and him his favorite pastry would get me off the hook.

“Think it’ll work?”

“Not a chance,” she stated and they both snickered, this time not ignoring their phones when they went off. Nessa was readily text Shyne that she was getting him an apple fritter and herself some coffee, and that she would be there as soon as she was. Had she taken her time, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to notice that Andre had been done texting first and his gaze was on her – eyes nearly colorless - shamelessly appraising and hooded beneath the natural light that this particular Starbucks location thrived off of. It was heady and she had every intention of returning the look when the barista was putting down several drinks.

“A venti vanilla sweet cream cold brew, two grande iced soy caramel macchiatos with two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of cinnamon dolce, and a tall vanilla bean frappucino with two pumps of caramel.” Nessa mentally cursed the woman for the timing, but couldn’t help but soften when Andre retrieved her drink for her along with a straw before handing them both to her. She didn’t even try to pretend to want to suppress the shiver that races down her spine when their hands brush again. She can feel the way Andre’s thumb brushed over her skin even as she pulled away, a frisson of heat she could feel seeping into her nerves. It made her gasp and his eyes seemed to darken.

“Such a gentleman,” she remarked playfully, though her smile shone with gratefulness. Andre thought she was radiant.

“Have to be. I apparently have a reputation I need to live up to.”

“Definitely, definitely.” They both lingered then and Nessa could feel herself wanting to make up another excuse to remain in his presence for longer. But she knew holding off meeting Shyne would make the gift of the fritter unnecessary, so brushing off her disappointment, she cast him an apologetic smile. “Well, I better, uh, go. My brother can be a right bitch when he doesn’t get his sugar fix first thing in the morning. It was nice meeting you.” She turned away to head towards the door, pulling her phone back up as she walked and unlocking it so that she could summon an Uber. Andre didn’t let her get far.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name.” Nessa turned around, her back against the front door as a slow grin appeared on his face, a flutter of pleasure in her belly when she noticed his hopeful expression.

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you,” she purred and pushed back on the door, walking out into the New York traffic. She caught the flash of amused disappointment on Andre’s face, but it only made her giggle to herself as she walked to where the Uber driver was supposed to meet her.

She shot him a DM with her name and number on Instagram anyway, right after she confirmed the Uber ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, idk if anyone noticed or cared, but mostly each chapter is either the lyric or title of a song. Idk if this classifies as a song fic as well, but what the original idea was was that I was supposed to start each chapter off with the lyrics of the song they're attached to. I gotta go back and edit for the first chapter. Anyway, please leave kudos if it's actually a good story and even comment if you can <3 <3


	3. i think a bitch in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As interested as he seems when they're texting, Andre's actually not making it easy for Nessa. She sees more than most people thinks that she does, baby Bella is a gift, and Hakeem is just as stuck as Nessa is. But they try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took a thousand years to post D: blame that bitch named writer's block and give her a punch to the face while you're at it. As always, please leave kudos or comments if you can.

_Yeah, I think a bitch in love,_

_You, you, you, you,_

_You the only one I want,_

_I don't know what's gotten into me,_

_Got me slurring all up in my speech,_

_You got every single part of me, part of me,_

**Make Me Feel, Star Cast**

* * *

 

To Andre -- …was that sass I detected?

From Andre -- depends. what are you going to do about it?

To Andre -- OMG it was sass!!! I knew it!

also, dont b getting smart wit me

From Andre -- Or what?

To Andre -- talkin a lot of shit ova there ol man

From Andre -- then do something about it baby girl

To Andre -- time n place boo

From Andre -- counting on it

“Whatchu over here grinnin’ bout, girl?” Hakeem asked and Nessa jolted in her seat, the aforementioned wide grin disappearing from her face. She pressed her screen against her chest in an attempt to keep him – anyone, really – from seeing the current text conversation as Hakeem slithered over her way, pulling a red lollipop from his mouth. “Saw how good we looked together on the gram?”

“Wh-what? Boy bye,” she said and rolled her eyes, glancing down at her phone but thought better of it, locking the device’s screen thereafter. She and Andre had been texting one another on-and-off after their Starbucks encounter. He had surprised her by being the one to initiate things after meeting up at Shyne’s studio later that day, calling her out for knowing that they were going to see each other again and playing coy. Nessa had only teased him about his jaw still being on the floor and it honestly went from there.

It hadn’t occurred to her yet to say anything to Hakeem about it. For one, she didn’t feel like she had to be responsible for pissing Hakeem Lyon off. Everyone knew that Hakeem didn’t take losing well and even if Nessa had turned him down the second they had met, it didn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t react negatively. Besides, she and Andre were just talking. It wasn’t anything serious…well, at least she could say it wasn’t at the moment. The occasional flirting and the fact that she considered climbing Andre Lyon like a tree half of the time that they text one another needed to be saved for another conversation on a whole other day. Two, Hakeem already let her know how he felt about his brother, which already gave her the impression that he didn’t really know the older Lyon sibling that well at all. Hakeem was sure that Andre was too uptight, and, yet, he was the one who showed his playful side from the very first message.

“Anyway, what the hell are we doing here anyway? Don’t you got some live stream thing tonight that you need to get ready for?” She inquired after some thought. At some point in the morning, Hakeem had told her they were chilling and making music, and Nessa was always down for time alone from Shyne and literally anyone that she normally shared space with. They wound up in Studio Six, ordering pizza and wings, and far more alcohol than was necessary for a group of people just hanging out.

“Ain’t nothin’. One time, Keem had a whole performance and he only rehearsed once,” Chicken recalled and Nessa nodded, remembering.

“Three years ago, right?” Chicken nodded and Hakeem grinned in satisfaction that she remembered something that he did…at least until she opened up her mouth to add, “And didn’t he fuck up once?” There were snickers all around the room and Hakeem pushed himself from the soundboard, glaring at everybody.

“Man, fuck all y’all!” Nessa really laughed then, picking up her red plastic cup and taking a swig of the concoction Chicken had come up with. All she knew was that Grey Goose and some berry juice was used. After that, Nessa hadn’t cared about anything other than not getting too torn up. Out of the corner of her eye, after he threw a pencil at one of the other rappers in the room, Hakeem slid onto the chair beside her, straddling it. “You comin’ over tonight, right boo? We can talk ‘bout your contract with Empire.” Nessa cut her eyes at Hakeem over the rim of her cup, but he only continued to grin, unrepentant.

“Okay, one, I ain’t yo boo. Don’t know how many times I gotta tell you that,” she said, putting her cup back down and crossing her right leg over her left. “Two, you know there ain’t no nothin’ if Shyne’s not down for it.”

“Then bring his ass too. As long as you hurry up and sign already.” The chorus of agreement that followed made Nessa smirk, but in her chest, emotions she wasn't about to grant them witness to welled up in her chest. Whether it was due to her friendship to Hakeem or because Shyne was quickly becoming a favorite producer among this particular group, it still struck Nessa that it hadn't taken long for her to acquire a bond outside of the one she had begun to form with Hakeem. It didn't even occur to her believe that it could possibly be her own charms that got her this new group of friends; it just seemed realistic that it was either of the two males in her life. She hadn't expected to make any real friends upon becoming involved with Empire. Shyne had done nothing but fill her head with horror stories of this industry and this particular conglomerate, and Nessa wasn't so naive that she believed everything Shyne said, but there was definitely some stock in the articles and gossip that circulated around Empire and its artists. There must’ve been something on her face because Hakeem sobered up and moved in a little bit closer. “Ain’t no place that’s gonna treat you better than Empire and you know that.”

“You know I know that,” she replied softly. “The only one who’s acting like he don’t know that is Shyne.”

“But why you let him treat you like this? Ain’t you grown?”

Nessa shrugged and unlocked her phone screen just in time to see the next text from Andre. It was the most simple and realistic response from the guy she could honestly say was a friend. Nessa was grown. She was literally just one year older than Hakeem. And yet, it was still simple, like second nature even, to have Shyne assume control. On one hand, Nessa could say that it was easier that way. She hadn’t wanted this with the same drive that he had, so of course Shyne would take over. This was his territory anyway. The other side of it, though, wasn’t something she wanted to acknowledge just yet. Nessa was a big girl, but admitting where she was weak was not a move she wanted to make just yet.

From Andre -- Hakeem ask about Empire Xstreme?

To Andre: just did

“The same reason why you gotta ask your dad if it’s okay to bring your friends around your kid,” she answered finally, softening her voice upon the affronted yet pensive look on Hakeem’s face. “You’re just as much not in control as I am and you’re just as grown. It all comes down to who really holds power. Them or us?” Hakeem didn’t have anything to say after that. Nessa had to pretend like that didn’t make her feel like shit for making him add distance between them. It didn’t stop her from feeling just as relieved.

 

* * *

 

 

“Vanessa,” Carla greeted her warmly when Nessa arrived in the entrance of Shyne’s studio, Andre seated on one of the sofas behind the frazzled woman. He must have noted the tense set of her shoulders because one of his eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline in inquiry, but Nessa gave him a thin smile for his trouble. He stood.

Shyne had mandated that there be no Lyons appearing at any of his places unless it was Lucious Lyon himself, ready to talk business. In this case, _business_ was whatever number Shyne wanted to hear to pretty much buy Vanessa out. She still felt disturbed wording it like that because it wasn’t like that. At least, she didn’t want to acknowledge that this was the case. What she also hadn’t wanted to do was embarrass Hakeem like Shyne had when all of his fans could see him get humiliated live. That hadn’t been what she and Shyne had discussed, and the older man had went completely off script. Nessa hadn’t even been able to say anything once Shyne threw the scrap of paper down; after one long look at Hakeem that she hoped he had read as apologetic, she followed her play brother out of the apartment, a silent fury building up inside of her. And even when Nessa pointed out all of the other deals the other agencies offered since what Hakeem said Empire was willing to give hadn’t been enough, Shyne had turned up his nose. He wanted Empire, but on his terms. Which meant that they needed to kiss his ass and Nessa just needed to be a good girl and take it.

But Nessa was done being treated like cattle with no say in the final transaction. 

(And yes, it was _definitely_ like that and she was _definitely pissed_.).

Shyne would call inviting Andre to his space like this her acting out. Nessa considered it giving him somebody’s ass to kiss since he was so engrossed in having everybody kiss his just so he could see how it felt. “I didn’t know, at first, if he should be invited to come back or if I should call you,” Carla, a mixed middle aged mother of three – Chinese and black – continued. “Mr. Johnson said that he didn’t want any Lyons here and you know how he can be when people don’t do what he wants. But Mr. Lyon here has been such a – “

At some point, probably from the second Carla opened her mouth to explain why Nessa had to find out through a text from Andre that he had arrived, the older woman’s words had become nothing but a buzz in Nessa’s ears as she took in the long line of Andre’s body. She had appreciated it from a distance when he had arrived at the studio a few days ago with his father, but the reminder of his handsomeness and her (now) stupid, self-imposed celibacy had her unable to take her eyes off the clean fit of his dark suit and caramel skin. With the way Andre’s mouth curved into an easy smile that shows off teeth that honestly should not be allowed to be that white and the air of debonair sophistication he gave off as he brushed off Carla’s attempts at an apology for her brusque treatment from earlier, Nessa doesn’t even bother hiding the up-down she gives him even as she distantly worries for Shyne’s reaction to her betrayal.

She just doesn’t also expect the _very_ blatant, _very_ unapologetic stare from his hooded, dark eyes that she could feel from the tips of her toes to the start of her hairline, and the shocking warmth of it all settled low in her belly, a subtle punch of arousal she hadn’t seen coming.

 _Well, shit_ , she thought.

Vanessa had spent the majority of her life after she started developing her body being very aware of when people wanted her. She had to. Stone had emphasized the importance of it; she couldn't remain ignorant and naive to when people talked to her simply because she had gained boobs that put even her mama's to shame. It sucked because she was fucking twelve and there shouldn't have been anything sexual to find in a developing twelve year old girl, but Nessa could do nothing but be vigilant, even when she didn't see anything all that special. Naturally, she used her body to her advantage, letting a shirt drop just a little too low because she knew that if someone's gaze was on her cleavage, they wouldn't pay attention to whatever they were agreeing to. She had only seen her body as normal, especially given the community she had grown up in. There were plenty of girls back in Philly who very much had coke bottle bodies who only needed to step off of her porch to get some ratty ass negro from down the lane’s attention and have her dad grabbing a pistol to wave around like he wasn’t one of those same guys back in the day.

However, with Andre, things weren’t that damn simple. She couldn’t have possibly figured that her too visceral to be real attraction to him was truly as mutual as it seemed at this very moment. There’s a complete difference between flirting with someone on your phone and actually being able to see things in person. In person, things were much easier. Different people require different angles on how to read them, but you can grasp little tidbits from their person about what they might want from you. Through text, Andre could hide. He could pull away, as he was wont to do, and Nessa wouldn’t know where she might have gone too far. Nessa would push, just a little, and Andre would take five minutes longer to respond to a text than he normally would. Most of the time, Nessa was pretty sure he didn’t even notice from the text that would follow a few hours or the very next day. It was easy to assume that ok, maybe she had a little crush and maybe it wasn't what she thought it was on his end. She never knew where she stood on that front, even when she found herself with a smile for the rest of the day because of something he typed.

But this right here? Nessa could do this.

“Ummm, i-it’s fine, Carla,” she managed out, managing to tear her very distracted gaze from Andre’s finally but not her attention. He lingered on the edge of her periphery, so magnetic a presence that she felt it hard to catch her breath. She swore she saw Andre smirk, but she figured it was just her being stupid in the face of someone she was attracted to. She was human; that happened from time to time. “Just go over that last transaction for me and make sure all of the copies get emailed to Shyne. I don’t need a repeat of last time.”

Carla nods, sends a sweet, beaming smile Andre’s way – _girl, you ain’t the only one_ , Nessa thinks to the side of the woman’s face - and walks off, leaving them alone. It seemed like the air was too thick and too warm because Nessa’s tongue felt dry in her throat when she peered up at him; she had to crane her head back a little just to do so and _fuck, that honestly should not as attractive to her as it was_.

“You said you wanted to talk?” What she wanted was for him to not still look like a slick ass thirst trap who knew exactly what he was doing by smiling like that, while somehow also giving off this almost hopeful smile that made her heart jump in her throat. So, Nessa nodded, grinning slightly as she cocked her head back in the direction of the stairs while biting her lower lip. And feeling right satisfied when Andre’s gaze sunk past her eyes before shooting back up, the grin on her face widening impossibly when she turned her back to him.

And if she happened to feel a frisson of hot triumph go down her spine when she felt Andre’s gaze settle on her light denim covered ass as they proceeded up the stairs they didn’t need to use when there was an elevator in the building, well, Nessa didn’t see anything to complain about.

Still, they needed to talk and though the air between them was too wracked with palpable tension, Nessa found herself able to focus better on that when Andre noted the workshop they entered and the tablet she picked up once they did. She just also had to stop herself fully giving into the shiver that threatened to race down her spine every time the soft fabric of his blazer brushed against the side of her bare arm, goosebumps rising of their own volition.

“Listen, uh, the only reason I let you in here is because I figured that it was important for you to see what I’m about,” she told him, checking the data the workers had input into the system. She’d have to go over them before she left, but from what she could see, the numbers were all there and they looked good.

No matter how much she may have trusted every single one of the women in the room, Nessa always needed to go back over everything and it had nothing to do with Shyne. He would catch a bitch fit, of course, if he felt like they were missing one cent, but Nessa still felt the expanse of warm pleasure settle in her chest when she herself held a calculator or did something as simple as basic multiplication on a clean sheet of paper. It was a geek thing, one that Shyne never hesitated to call her on, but for some reason, she felt less inclined to tuck hair behind her ear in embarrassment over the things she found comfort in, particularly in Andre’s presence.

“He has you doing his books,” Andre said flatly and Nessa barely missed the look of distaste on his face, though for her doing math and finances or simply that Shyne couldn’t be bothered to do it himself she couldn’t tell. Nessa felt slightly attacked all the same.

“Math always came natural.” The defensiveness crept to her voice, unbidden, but Andre didn’t do anything other than cast her an apologetic look.

“Me too,” he replied quietly and Nessa paused in their walk, a brief but soft smile crossing her face. However, it didn’t take too long for it to be wiped from her face as Andre continued, “So, you should know, Nessa, that the deal Empire is offering is the best that you’re going to get. It’s a sizable advantage, the royalty rates are highly reasonable, and you get to keep the income from merchandising and publishing.”

Nessa knew all of that. While Shyne hadn’t wanted her to see the copy of the contract Lucious had left with him when they first visited this very building, she had gotten Hakeem to send her a copy of it long before the live fiasco. She had seen what Empire had to offer, been impressed by it even. She had attempted, at least three times, to get Shyne to see the benefits of just giving in already, but once he had thundered at her and thrown a vase across the living room, Nessa had learned to shut the hell up.

“That doesn’t sound too different from all the other labels.” Andre snorted, disbelievingly.

“You really wanna sign with Tommy DiVone or some Dutch-owned conglomerate? Really?” He scoffed and Nessa’s eyebrows rose, the shock of his disgust causing her to take two steps back. Or maybe it was the fact that at some point when they stopped near her desk, the space between them had closed and Nessa found herself drinking in the warmth of him, the expensive cologne on his skin.

“So, this is a black thing now?”

“The one thing this country is going to always make you remember, little sister, it’s always a black thing,” Andre informed her and Nessa swallowed, needing a moment to look away from the intensity that had clouded Andre’s gaze.

While there was still something very notable in the air between them, she knew that whatever that look had been had nothing to do with her, and all to do with what he had just said. Nessa knew of Andre’s most recent encounter with the police, but considering the fact that the rest of the Lyon family hadn’t made it a primary concern, there wasn’t as much news coverage as there would’ve been had it been either Jamal or Hakeem. She thought it had something to do with the fact that both of Andre’s siblings were popular icons in their own right with followings that would not allow injustices of any kind to happen to them, not with the way social media and the power of angry fan bases could drive even top organizations to public apology, but still. Andre’s bitterness was evident and the sheer force of it, even in that brief moment of weakness, made it hard to take a breath.

“Listen, why are you here? Talkin’ to me like this one-on-one?”

“Shyne is exploiting you, Nessa,” Andre explained, voice more careful now but eyes intense nonetheless. “He’s using you to hold out for a label deal.” That wasn’t anything new. Nessa knew that. Except that some part of her must not have known it or accepted it yet because Andre’s bluntness on the matter felt like a slap to the face.

“I owe Shyne, Andre,” she told him, mouth set in a frown at hearing the exact words she’d been rehearsing for years escape her mouth, and Andre rolled his eyes. “He took me in after St - “

“I know all about that.” He said it patiently, kindly even and Nessa planned to move away the second she realized his body was prepared to take a step towards her - she honestly was - but then he was in her space and once again, she was craning her head back to meet his gaze. Andre stared for a long while, tongue dipping out to run over his lower lip to wet it in a move that she knew was more casual than sexual. Yet, her gaze fell to the movement and would’ve stayed there if he hadn’t spoken up again. “Did you know I knew your brother Stone? When I was a kid?”

No, she had not known that. According to Shyne, the Lyons didn’t give a damn about the rest of them since day one. Nessa knew there obviously had to be some kind of discrepancy in Shyne’s rendition of everything to do with the Lyons since Stone didn’t hold the same resentment towards Lucious and the family as a whole, but Nessa had learned from both that bringing the Lyons up in any conversation was just not a good move unless you really wanted to listen to one of Shyne’s rants or deal with his brooding ass.

“I was a senior at Roman Catholic when I heard that he got killed. I’m sorry about that,” Andre continued quietly, voice taking a somber note. “Now, you and me, Nessa we’re both from West Philly, we’re both,” she hadn’t realized that his arm had moved until his fingertips brushed her own, hand coming to settle beneath the tablet she still held. She tried not to jump at that one source of contact, but she did and the touch caused her nerves to prickle beneath her skin, another wave of heat coalescing in her very veins. “We’ve got a lot in common. Nessa had to snort derisively, if only to keep the breathlessness from reaching her voice.

“Except I didn’t go to some fancy ass college,” she pointed out, teasing as she tried to disintegrate the cloudy haze that seemed to envelop her brain. Or was it just the air? Nessa couldn’t tell. Either way, she felt dizzier when she heard Andre’s laugh, bright even with the baritone of his voice.

“Cute. The irony is you can tell Shyne exactly how much money he’s got...down to the last nickel,” he said the last word with a snap of his fingers and Nessa blinked reflexively. “But you have no idea what you’re worth.”

 _And you do_ , was the very first thing on the tip of her tongue, but Nessa couldn’t seem to form her lips around the words. They remained steadfast in her mouth and she had to swallow, once more, at the hot stickiness of her fear, just like when Hakeem had pointed out that she shouldn’t let Shyne have so much control. She didn’t mean to. She just didn’t know how not to. For all her no-nonsense, sometimes abrasive and sometimes tough as nails antics, Nessa couldn’t seem to scrounge up any of that same fearlessness when it came to someone she called family. She wanted to. As she had proven time and before, Nessa didn’t let Shyne walk completely over her. She knew when to remind him that she wasn’t just some subservient little bitch, waiting to heed his every command. But it never failed that that same backbone seemed to disappear when she probably needed it most, and it was more than likely pride that it always disallowed her to not feel affronted and on the defense when someone pointed it out.

“This business - this dangerous, dangerous business - it was your brother’s, it was Stone’s. He left it in Shyne’s care for you,” Andre reminded her. That was something Nessa hadn’t known. This entire building and all the others that Stone and Shyne had - as she had recalled - been a part of their ventures. She could reap the benefits of said ventures, such as if she needed an apartment or house after finishing college, or even a more luxurious lifestyle should her brother want to give it to her. But because of years of telling Stone - of years of him telling her that she had a choice to walk away from it, even as he told her he worked so damn hard for her security - it hadn’t occurred to her that part of it belonged to Nessa. That she held stake in so much more than Shyne had ever allowed her to know. It incensed her. It made her want to find the bastard and bust him in his face. Find a bat large enough to knock his black ass to the ground so she could kick until her legs grew too tired to lift again.

More than anything, it _hurt_.

“Are you going to take what’s yours?” Andre asked.

Could she? That was the real question. A bigger part of her wanted to still deny the validity of what Andre had shared. Obviously, she needed to sit her other brother down and have some words with him, get some facts straight. But she also knew Shyne. Shyne would deflect. He’d tell her that she was being led astray, that everyone else was doing wrong and never him. Never him. Nessa wasn’t setting herself up for that disappointment and headache. For the guilt he’d throw her way for ever doubting him. So, she herself deflected as well.

Instead of just flat-out answering, she took the final step that had her pressed fully against Andre chest-to-chest, the other occupants in the room long since having escaped her awareness. Instead, Nessa held his gaze, watching it go from genuinely imploring to darker, until the notes of whiskey in his irises seemed to darken to near black.

“Are you?”

The challenge hung in the air, leaving it charged once more and Nessa felt her mouth run dry when it seemed like Andre was going to lower his face closer to her eyes. The anticipation caused knots to form in her stomach and her face felt hotter, palms just short of clammy, and she felt her pulse thunder alongside her throat -

Only for Andre to place the packet he had been holding the entire time on the desk behind her, eyes never leaving hers. Which was a good thing because while there was the same echo of want that she knew she hadn’t been making up and was probably reflecting in her own eyes, something distant and indiscernible flashes in his gaze too - was it uncertainty or fear? Nessa couldn’t tell. All that she knew was that whatever could have happened wasn’t going to and she felt it keenly, the disappointment dampening the hot curl of arousal that had been sparked in her veins.

“I’ll leave this here,” he said, voice too low, too husky for him to even attempt to deny his attraction to her. Nessa felt just a twinge of satisfaction of that. But it didn’t last long because Andre was squaring his shoulders, a guarded look on his face, as he added, “You should really consider signing Nessa. You owe yourself that much. Regardless of whatever plans Shyne might have for you, it’s still your voice. Signing with Empire enables you to prove that and do you what you will with it.” Nessa stared at him for a moment, face unreadable yet probing, and she could tell that it made him uncomfortable with the way Andre shifted on his feet.

“I’ll think about it,” was the only thing she could offer him.

“Do that.” Nessa didn’t bother stopping him from walking away.

 

* * *

 

 

“Keem, why it feel like we sixteen and sneaking back in past curfew?” Nessa hissed as they literally just missed Juanita passing through the foyer, closing the front door behind them and scurrying up the stairs like thieves in the night. She had been surprised to see him text her, let alone pull up to her place. But he had, after two days of radio silence, and told her to get in and Nessa grabbed her bag by instinct, the unsigned copy of the contract that Andre had given her inside.

 “Just ssshhhhhhh,” Hakeem snapped, hand still wrapped around her wrist as he pulled her along. Nessa knew he could feel her glare on the back of his head. She just knew it. He stopped to peer around the corner and then tugged gently at her wrist. Nessa rolled her eyes, but let herself be dragged along until Hakeem opened the first door on the right and ushered her inside.

It didn’t take long to figure out where they were.

“I knew my baby was still up,” he exclaimed in a hushed voice and Anika, who had glanced up when the door was opened and probably expecting Lucious, narrowed her eyes at him. Nessa noted that she looked exhausted.

“Who I’m trying to put to sleep,” she hissed. Bella seemed unaware of her mother’s ire for all she did was coo quietly. Regardless of whatever Hakeem had to say about the mother of his child, there was no denying the adoration on Anika’s face then, the soft smile curving her firm mouth even as she seemed to want to have it stay set in its frown. She glanced up again and her eyes remained soft when she said, “Hello, Nessa. Glad to see you out of Shyne’s shadow.”

“Just for a little while,” Nessa replied quietly. Hakeem’s gaze shifted between the two women.

“When the hell did you two become friends?”

“Ummm, mind your business,” both women snapped before grinning at each other. It hadn’t been anything too significant. Anika had met Shyne awhile back, he recommended the nail place Nessa fell in love with because of the gel manicures, and before she knew it, when they were moving to New York, Anika took Nessa out to brunch and showed her her favorite nail salon. It was their outing activity every three weeks now.

“So, _this_ is baby Bella,” Nessa finally exclaimed, walking over to where Anika was perched in the rocking chair. Once there, she peered over and met deep brown eyes.

Nessa had heard Hakeem say that Lucious believed Bella to be the splitting image of Cookie. Nessa could see it in her eyes. Hakeem was the only Lyon son Nessa could see the hazel of Lucious’ eyes in. Jamal and Andre both had hints of it, amber flecks that you couldn’t really see until their eyes were caught in just the right light. Jamal’s were still darker, but Hakeem - though his eyes seemed brown most of the time - that changed with his emotions. They appeared more hazel when he was really happy, giddy like a child because lyrics simply had flowed for him the night before and he had spent all night jotting them down, so he was excited to actually be in the studio and combining them with a track he had really liked. But Bella had Cookie’s eyes, this deep, dark true brown shade with just the barest hint of red in them that Nessa could pinpoint only under the lamp that hung over the rocking chair. She was tiny still, just a few months old, but she had a full head of curly dark hair and mother’s complexion. Bella stared up at her in infant curiosity, obviously trying to figure out who this absolute stranger was.

Nessa might have fallen just a little bit in love.

“Yeah,” Anika answered on a sigh, almost forgetting herself. But she was hopping up a moment later, Bella secure in one arm while she pointed a finger at Hakeem. “But what is she doing here?” Anika turned back to Nessa to say, “Not that I’m not happy about having you here, Nessa, honestly. You just don’t know how Lucious can be.” Nessa only waved a nonchalant hand her way, which Bella thought was for her because she definitely started wriggling and grinning as best as she could at her age. Nessa swore she felt her heart melt then and there. Undeterred, even by Hakeem’s defiant stare, Anika continued on, “But _he_ knows. What the hell were you thinking? Are you really trying to start a fight this late at night?”

“Lucious can fight whoever he wanna fight. Don’t nobody tell me what I do with my child,” Hakeem stated firmly and Nessa raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t see Anika’s exasperated glare his way, but whatever was on her face must’ve been grudging acceptance because she released Bella when Hakeem opened his arms.

“Just make sure you leave me out of this when it blows up in your face, which it will,” Anika said tiredly, threw her hands up, and walked out. Hakeem snorted at her back before turning back to Nessa, Bella whimpering in his awkward hold.

“She stay dramatic. Lucious ain’t ‘bout to do nothin.’’ Nessa chuckled then, shaking her head as she walked up to him. Hakeem was doing a good job at sounding brave and she honestly didn’t think he in too much of fear of his father, but he definitely wasn’t comfortable with his own brand of defiance. They wouldn’t have had to sneak into the house if he was.

“You’re, uh, holding her wrong, Keem,” she informed him and he grimaced because Bella chose then to start crying quietly. Chuckling again, Nessa hesitantly grasped the very small, very soft body in her hands, a question in her eyes as she stared at Hakeem. He didn’t even bother putting up a fight. Soon, Nessa had Bella in her arms, a hand firmly holding the child at the top of her spine while her other arm braced around her, thumb rubbing soothing circles on her back through her onesie.

“She just ain’t used to me holding her all the time,” Hakeem explained once Bella shushed, little wide eyes focused on Nessa’s very new face, bitterness lingering in his eyes. Nessa had a feeling it was rare for him to hold his own child at all and she felt the pity settle in her gut. “He always tellin’ me I ain’t man enough yet, but don’t never teach me how.”

“He doesn’t need to teach you anything, Hakeem. _You_ are her father. You’ll learn.” Nessa smiled at Bella’s face and the baby only seemed to grin back, all gummy and vibrant. But sleepy, definitely sleepy. She was just fighting it. “She needs to get used to your touch, that’s all. And you need to get used to her, to the way she feels in your arms. That takes time.”

Hakeem watched her with Bella, how gentle Nessa was bouncing the baby in her arms, eyes so adoring even after only being in her presence for a few minutes. Hakeem could’ve put the same effort into getting Chicken or any one of his friends over and seeing Bella, but it had felt right to have Nessa meet her. He’d been thinking for awhile about obvious his leering and flirting had been, and realized that a big part of his being upset these last couple of days wasn’t because Shyne and Nessa had embarrassed him. It was because Shyne had embarrassed him in front of Nessa, and Hakeem wanted to impress her. Not because he just wanted her in his bed. Hakeem would be a blind fool to not want her; hell, half of his crew wanted a chance to smash. But it occurred to him, and it definitely hit him then and there, that Hakeem didn’t just want sex with a girl like Nessa. She didn’t take any of his shit and genuinely listened to his ideas, called them on their bullshit bought didn’t just patronize. Whether she realized it or not, Nessa was an influencer and he could see himself being better with her. And now that he could see that it was easy for her to get along with his daughter, how could he not want her in more ways than one?

“I guess.”

Rolling her eyes at his petulant expression, Nessa began humming, an old gospel song on her mind as she began to cradle Bella more in arms, gesturing for him to do the same. Nessa saw the building panic in his eyes, but only shook her head gently, still humming as she slowly slid Bella into his arms. Bella fussed in the awkward hold, but Nessa kept humming, maneuvering Hakeem so that she could eventually gently push him into the rocking chair, helping him rock Bella as they went. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the large, feathery white foot stool, hands lingering on his arms as Bella’s eyes began to droop. She wasn’t asleep yet, Nessa noted, but she would be soon.

“Why’d do this, Hakeem? Bringin’ me here, knowing your daddy ain’t gonna be happy with either of us if he finds out?” She inquired after a beat, eyes flicking up to meet his eyes. Hakeem was focused on his daughter’s face for a moment, still in awe of the moments when she actually looked like she _liked_ being in his arms. Like she liked _him_. Nessa couldn’t help but laugh a little at the excitement in his eyes. He’d probably be vibrating with it if he wasn’t trying to put his baby to sleep. Still, Nessa wanted answers, so she pressed, “Hakeem.”

“Huh?” He finally looked up to see Nessa’s amused stare. He only grinned. It didn’t take long for a more serious expression to cloud his glee, though. “‘cause you still need to take control over your life and I’m tryna’ work on doing the same. You were wrong before. Shyne, Lucious...they don’t have power over us. Not really. The only got it ‘cause we let them take it.”

Nessa lowered her eyes then and so did Hakeem, her to the plush rug and him to his daughter’s face.

  
“Dad asked me where the ruthless side of me was, the one who wanted to take over Empire. That was who Bella needed to be her father. And _he_ would never let _anybody_ else tell him what he’s gonna do with his own kid, blood or no blood. Question is, Ness, who you gonna be?”


	4. don't know what it is, but you turn me on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hakeem told her to take control, he probably didn't mean for her to go sleep with his brother. The thing is that she definitely did, Shyne definitely knows, and Andre ain't shit for making sure she couldn't forget.

I say boy you done did it

Love how you kiss it

Ooh you can get it

I never felt like that before

Ooh, you the realest

Yeah, I admit it

All in my feelings, Damn

**Maybe, Teyana Taylor ft. Yo Gotti & Pusha T**

* * *

 

“Not now, Shyne.”

Nessa grumbled as she shoved through the front door of their apartment, hands rubbing at her arms as the chill of the home swept past the thin material of her dress to the vulnerable flesh beneath. It was no longer the dead of summer, but Shyne still acted like it was and kept the air conditioner on, humming all day and night and pumping bursts of cool air that made Nessa burrow beneath both her blanket and sheets to stay warm. She could always turn it down, but he would more than likely turn it right back up.

“Yes the fuck now,” he growled and barreled past her so that he could stop Nessa in her tracks, a wide wall of barely restrained rage and disgust that Nessa honestly didn’t need right now.

Her nerve endings were like little live wires, still sending sparks of energy through her veins, pulses of her own anger and adrenaline as she recalled the sound of Shyne’s bullet hitting one of the overhead lights in Andre’s kitchen. _Jamal’s kitchen_ , her brain pettily supplied, but it did her no good. At the end of the day, her mind went back to Andre and it just increased her need for a hot bath and something strong down her throat. After all, what other way could anyone possibly handle the morning after getting caught at the guy you slept with in his brother’s apartment after he whooped your own brother’s ass?

“I told you we ain’t have time for that shit,” Shyne practically spat in her face and Nessa had to close her eyes for a moment, still tired, just a little sore (and _fuck you very much_ , brain, _for that reminder_ ) and trying not to smack the man she called family in the face. “And then your thirsty ass thots your way over there? And after what he did to me?”

“I said I ain’t know what happened, Shyne.” That didn’t matter and Nessa knew that from the way his scowl deepened and his nostrils flared. Shyne’s face was ugly with the bruise that was still swollen and she thought he’d do better with actually putting ice on it than wasting both of their times by bitching over shit he couldn’t change. No matter what her libido said, Nessa wouldn’t have gone and did what she did had she known about Andre and Shyne’s fight. She was a lot of things, but disloyal hadn't been one of them. “You think I would’ve slept with him knowin’ that he hurt you?”

“I ‘on know, wouldn’t you?”

Shyne was goading her. Nessa knew it and she had half the mind to feed into it, which is why she clasped her hands in front of his face to keep herself from actually using one of them to add another bruise to the already damaged ego and fucked up visage. But she refrained, a further testament to Nessa deserving a hot soak for her troubles, and said, “You know what? I done said I was sorry. Take it or leave it, but I’m done.”

Before she could take more than three steps from Shyne, Nessa was roughly yanked back, his large hand fully enveloping her wrist in a painful grip that made her wince. He paid it no mind as he snarled, “I done told yo ass ‘bout walkin’ away from me when I’m talkin’ to you.”

He didn’t expect for Nessa to twist her wrist sideways and yank from his hold.

“And I done told you ‘bout puttin’ yo motherfuckin’ hands on me,” she hissed, pointing a finger in his face and standing on the tips of her toes to better meet his gaze, rising to his height.

They stared at each other for a long time, both breathing heavy before Nessa felt her phone vibrate in her free hand. It was yet another text, more than likely from Andre. He’d been texting her since she had stormed out with Shyne and his gang, and even after Nessa told him to stop. With one more glare at Shyne, who only narrowed his eyes in response, Nessa whirled around and stormed away, taking strides as long as her legs could manage so that she reached her room in record time. She didn’t even bother respecting Shyne’s current mood by not slamming her bedroom door. The sound was just too satisfying to deny herself.

Sliding back against the cool hard surface, Nessa’s head thuds gently against her bedroom door and she shuts her eyes, mind too quickly returning the way her head had done the very same thing the night before, except on the shiny surface of a deep walnut brown desk, hard edges digging into the backs of her thighs from when she had been sprawled -

“Fuck,” she exclaimed, a hand run through her hair, a task made easier when she’d been brushing the tangles that had formed from the night before in Andre’s bathroom while he cooked breakfast. The reminder made her hiss out another curse as Nessa stomped over to her bed to retrieve the charger she had left when Hakeem had picked her up, kicked off her shoes, and snuck back into the hallway. She only peeked around the corner once before sliding into the adjacent bathroom. The last thing she needed was to run into Shyne again, especially when he was in such a testy mood.

It was only as hot water filled the tub, the water turning murky as the chocolate-chip cookie bath salts from Shea Shea Bakery dissolved, that Nessa sat, clad in only a towel, and actually peered at her phone.

From Andre -- please answer your phone

From Andre -- I’m sorry. I respect that he’s your family, but I meant what I said. I couldn’t help it.

From Andre -- Nessa, say something.

To Andre -- i said wat i said. Leave me alone.

From Andre -- come on, baby girl. You really gonna stay mad at me?

To Andre -- damn str8. Im pissed. Last nite was obvi a mistake.

From Andre -- did it feel like one?

“Asshole,” Nessa muttered and set the phone down on the plush rug beneath her feet. Luckily, there was an outlet right next to the bath, so her phone could charge after it’s long night without one. Nessa let her towel fall to the floor, turned the water off, and climbed in, the dark scent of smooth cocoa from her facial mask mixing with the warm tendrils of chocolate-chip scented steam from the hot water currently enveloping her skin. It would be easy to just surrender herself to this little slice of hot paradise, further recline in the tub as the back of her head and neck rested against her bath pillow, take a light nap.

But such ease could only be acquired by stronger souls and after her phone vibrated twice, Nessa gave into her weakness, muttering a “fuck,” when she saw that Andre had sent a text before her phone had locked and now there were two extra ones. Shutting her eyes and taking a breath, Nessa looked only to regret that decision in literally two point five seconds.

From Andre -- did it feel like a mistake when i had you laid out on my desk, eating you out?

From Andre -- did it feel like a mistake when i fucked you right there? Pinning your arms down?

From Andre -- did it feel like a mistake when you screamed my name?

“Oh god,” Nessa whimpered, thighs trembling as a different warmth settled between them, his words causing a strong pulse of arousal in her lower abdomen. She shifted in the water, trying not to think of it, but the water lapped at her now erect, still sensitive clit and she moaned, mind immediately replaying the events of her late night visit even as she pleaded for them to go away.

_“Shyne doesn’t know I’m here,” Nessa announced just before standing in the middle of the room, watching Andre as he rounded the large desk to approach her. While it might have been bright enough for Andre to excuse the strain on his eyes while he stared at the computer screen he should’ve already been done with for the night, the rather dim lighting of the spacious home office did little to gentle the intimidation Nessa felt from the sight of the tight, predatory line of Andre’s shoulders nor the gleam in his eyes at how completely alone they finally were. Even Jamal’s singing, a distant lilting buzz now, couldn’t permeate the privacy they had, and Nessa felt it all too keenly. The temperature in the room seemed to dial up in the mere seconds since she had entered._

_“And what are you doing here?”_

_Andre’s voice was gravel rich and low as he finally stopped before her. His looming figure was one Nessa hardly could stop herself from admiring. His stance forced her to take in the breadth of his shoulders and narrowness of his trim waist, and her eyes ran down the length of him before jumping up, cheeks warm at the ghost of a smirk he gave at her appraisal. It was really fucking unfair that Andre Lyon was as stunningly good-looking as he was and has the power to overwhelm her in just a few moments of being in his presence, if the way her breath hitched in her chest and hairs on the back of her neck stood were anything to go by._

_“Earlier you asked me if I was ready to take what was mine,” she said after a beat, dropping her bag to the floor. Her signed contract to Empire remained inside. Nessa took the final step that brought her toe to toe with Andre, her eyes never leaving his as she added, “I’m just tryna’ see what all that includes.”_

_Nessa didn’t expect her own hesitancy when she finally reached up to touch. There had been plenty of people that Nessa had either made out with or had sex with and all she had to do was pull them close to get the party started. However, even with the way Andre’s eyes darkened with want - even as his muscles seemed tightly coiled, as if waiting to attack at any moment - she felt his hesitance just as much as her own. The wariness as they both stood on the precipice of something they both knew wasn’t going to be accepted readily by outsiders, that neither was probably ready for to begin with. It was enough to make her mouth go dry, but there was still the anticipation of the leap that emboldened her. Nessa’s fingertips grazed the hard, stubble-ridden line of Andre’s jaw when his hand shot up, fingers wrapped around her wrist._

_That one point of contact startled her and Nessa sucked in a sharp breath, eyes jumping back to his. She hadn’t even realized that she had looked away. Andre peered down at her and it was that same guarded expression from the workshop only this time, she saw the tail end of the emotion she hadn’t been able to pinpoint then. Fear. It should’ve made her back away, made her understand that they were reaching what probably needed to be his limit and they needed to take their time. Actually work up to this point._

_But it only made her want to press forward, the burst of relief flooding through her veins and sparking her nerves anew as Nessa flexed her fingers despite his firm hold. Andre’s eyes shut as soon as she was touching him again and Nessa gently stroked the warm skin at her fingertips, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. Whether he was actively doing it himself or it happened without his permission, Nessa found herself being pulled even closer until their bodies were pressed against one another. Her tongue darted to lick at her dry lower lip as Andre opened his eyes and immediately followed the movement, alight now with barely contained want though his uncertainty still lingered on the edges._

_Slowly, so slowly, his face inched towards hers and Nessa’s thumb, even as her wrist remained in his hold, gently stroked his cheek, a soothing motion that resulted in a full-body shudder. Nessa felt his pulse jump beneath her touch, but couldn’t focus on that because Andre’s face inched close enough and she couldn’t help but lean in that final inch for fear of him pulling away again._

_The first touch of his lips to hers was as surprising as it was easy and Nessa wondered if he could hear the roar that rushed past her ear or was that simply the blood rushing from her brain? Nessa couldn’t tell. All she knew was that the kiss was stupidly chaste - this dry, solid press of lips that shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was. It only lasted for just a few seconds and Nessa had to lick her lips again, but it made her face hot and her breathless all the same. Andre gasped at the first contact and pulled away only a fraction of an inch, eyes having fluttered shut. When he opened them again, Nessa expected him to tell her that it was a mistake, that maybe they needed to stop. The lingering imprint of him on her mouth would have begged to differ._

_A second later, however, and Andre had left her hand - which he had brought to rest against his chest at some point she couldn’t recall - where it was and cradled the back of Nessa’s head, while fitting his other hand at the small of her back. The second kiss was nowhere near chaste. Andre consumed every ounce of breath in Nessa’s lungs as he slanted his mouth over hers, licking past her lips and her teeth, and stroking over Nessa’s tongue with his own. She couldn’t help the squeak at the sheer force of his kiss nor the way her knees buckled as a result, and all her hand could do - trapped between their two bodies as it was - was grasp at his shirt and hold on for dear life. Her free one came up to rest on his hip, feeling the solid flesh beneath bleed out its warmth to her questing fingertips._

_Andre withdrew only to sink his teeth into her lower lip and tugged gently, evoking a whimper that Nessa would deny if anyone were to question her on it. His teeth were sharp enough to provide a fresh burst of pain that was enough to be recognized above the haze of pleasure, but more than anything, only added to it._

_At some point - and it thrilled her to her toes when she realized what had happened - Nessa had went from standing in front of Andre to being perched at the edge of his desk with the man in question fitted rather comfortably between her thick thighs, the cold, unforgiving wood beneath the soft skin of her thighs a stark contrast to the very warm yet solid man kissing her senseless. She moaned gently, almost whined really, when Andre’s lips trailed wetly from her mouth, leaving a trail of searing kisses from her jaw to her neck. She felt him tip her backwards and surrendered, her left hand clutching at the back of his head and her breath hitching when Andre’s teeth firmly brushed over her pulse point. Tossing her head back, Nessa’s hips jerked upward, the rough denim of his pants making it more obvious to her erect clit that her too warm, too damp panties needed to be off yesterday. She rolled her hips again and this time Andre groaned, forehead pressed into the crook of her neck as that time, she was made aware of the very sizable, very hard to ignore bulge pressed against her core. His right hand had shot down to grasp at her hip, fingers somewhat curled around the top of her thigh as if he could stop the brand new assault. It made Nessa feel triumphant and powerful. It made her grin and do it again, made her yank his face back to hers to fuse their mouths together._

_It also made her really wish they were chucking these clothes off already, but Andre was pulling away again with a breathless, “Wait,” on his lips that she wanted to eagerly kiss away, but she didn’t. Instead, as he rose, she did as well, still seated on the desk. His hands framed her thighs, clutching the edge of the desk with clear restraint, and despite being the one to bring things to a stop, Andre didn’t fully back away like he ought to._

_Nessa panted amidst the foggy heat that had suffused the air between them, shaking her head as if she could somehow shake away the disappointment that came when he said, “I’m sorry...”_

_“Okay.” It wasn’t okay, not to the panties she felt were wet enough to leave a stain on the dark wood beneath her should she slide off. Not to her charged libido, which demanded retribution because clearly, even if Andre’s face read troubled and a touch guilty, his gaze falling to her mouth when she licked her lips to get back the taste of him was a challenge that demanded an answer to. Clearly._

_But his, “I want to,” was earnest and just as disappointed as her vagina clearly was going to have to be, and Nessa shook her head at his insistence, taking his hands into hers even as she wanted them on her body._

_“It’s okay,” she told him, sucking in another breath, hoping it could quell the fire she still felt just below the surface of her skin. Because it was okay; it was going to be okay. He wanted her, she wanted him. Which meant that this could happen some other time. Shit happens and besides, a part of her had known that he wasn’t all the way ready for this. For her, for any of it really. Had known it even before arriving tonight. She had been aware and she was disappointed, yes, but as soon as she got home, Nessa would shove her hands into her panties and remember the way his felt against her skin and - “I know you lost your wife.”_

_Andre’s gaze went cloudy and Nessa almost believed it was the wrong thing to say, but he didn’t yank away from her touch, which only made her soothingly stroke his wrists with her thumb, watching him. He wasn’t looking at her, though. There was something past her shoulder, even though Nessa was aware that they were the only people in the room. It was disconcerting, yes, and definitely unnerving, but she was the one who brought up the elephant in the room. Nessa didn’t feel like she had a right to be upset with her words having transported him elsewhere._

_“What did you say?” Andre asked, almost like had honestly hadn’t heard her the first time._

_“I said I know you lost your wife,” she repeated, this time more gently, watching closely as his eyes fluttered closed as if of their own volition, but not before she saw the glimmer of guilt that shone in them. That made her sigh - in sympathy or pity, Nessa couldn’t tell the difference. But she did know that she needed to leave and give him his space, especially when Andre’s guarded gaze fixed itself upon her and he straightened to his full height._

_However, something happened in between the resurgence of his uncertainty and his straightening up because Andre tilted his head in a way that should not have made her pulse jump and his hands rose, fingertips shaking just a little when he reached out to her, as if in question. Whether he was questioning if it was alright for her - which it most certainly was, though she didn’t say anything - or for himself, Nessa didn’t know. All she did know was that he must have seen something in her eyes - approval, maybe? - because a moment later, his lips were on hers and even though there was something nagging at the back of her mind that she needed to leave and try again some other day, her very much happy libido told that voice to go fuck itself and buckle up for the ride._

_Once more, Andre had taken the reigns and his touches seemed more hotter or maybe that was just Nessa’s skin? And even though the thin material of her dress and underwear definitely need to be coming off soon or somebody was going to have to fight her, Nessa decided then and there that she didn’t want to just be only touching the skin of Andre’s bare arms and face. No, she needed more - ridiculously more - and he agreed because a beat later, and Andre was yanking the offending piece of material off of his form._

_And fuck, as cliche as it sounded, with a body like_ that _, Nessa felt just as offended._

_“Didn’t think,” he rasped wetly against her mouth and Nessa reached up to peck his lips again just because she knew she could. “Didn’t think you’d let me...I thought you and Hakeem - “_

_“Never,” she whispered, running her hands down his chest, revelling in the hiss of pleasure she was rewarded for running her nails over his sensitive nipples. Grinning, Nessa nosed at his jaw line, nipped at it gently just to hear him suck in a breath, and then moved to his throat, mouthing along it as she added, “Always wanted you...since you stole my coffee.” She could feel Andre’s chuckle rattle against her teeth, moaned in answer to his when she sucked on warm skin._

_“D-definitely mine.”_

_“Same difference.”_

_The ache between her thighs grew as Nessa managed to wrangle more strangled moans out of Andre’s throat, pleased by the bruises she knew was going to start blossoming on his skin come tomorrow. The thrill of seeing her handiwork the next day was almost enough to satisfy her, almost. Just before she got too comfortable, Andre gathered her wrists in his hands - and_ hello, very large, very _useful_ hands, nice to meet you _\- and suddenly they were pinned down to the desk and Nessa’s head tipped back, a shaky exhale on her lips as Andre’s head descended to nip and suck along her neck. Which apparently decided to grow super fucking sensitive in the last two point five seconds if the shivers that licked down her spine had anything to say about it. His tongue darted out to lick a line from the dip between her collarbones and up to her chin, and Nessa tilted her head back to give him better access, one leg hooked over his waist to keep him close._

_Before she realized it, Andre’s head was buried in her cleavage as much as he could in the dress that currently felt too tight or maybe that was just her wanting it off in general. The bra too, if she was being completely honest. Andre’s hips jerked forward and Nessa grunted softly, core clenching so tightly and panties so wet that she was sure that at this point, it had to have bled out even through his denim. There was no way, after all, that she should be this sensitive to the subtle grinding Andre had taken up, not unless the material of her panties had been made thin by the juices she could feel soaking them. Or faulty manufacturing, she’d have to figure that out later._

_Soon enough, though, Nessa couldn’t really focus on what was going on between her legs, not fully anyway. Not when Andre impatiently yanked the neckline of her dress down, causing her to gasp. The clasp of her bra - which had been in the front and precariously holding up her ample bosom - snapped in what Nessa was going to perceive as relief because that’s definitely what she felt. Absolute relief because her breasts spilled out, even though they were still somewhat restrained by her clothes, and Andre’s eyes hungrily took them in like they were the best options at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Nessa felt her pussy clench as his hot mouth closed around one hardened nipple, the gentle scrape of his teeth sending an electric sensation straight to the apex of her thighs._

_“Fuck,” she whimpered and Andre released the nipple with a wet pop, grinning darkly at her face before descending again, this time tongue darting out to flick at the sensitive bud before closing his mouth over it again and sucking hard. Nessa keened then, back arching off of the desk, body taut as she pressed the back of Andre’s head as if she could bring him any closer to her breasts._

_She didn’t know how long he stayed there, laving her nipples with sharp nips she was going to feel tomorrow and sucking hard enough to leave bruises she was more than likely gonna need concealer on if she wore a certain top, but at some point, either Andre or Nessa had gotten impatient because at the same time that she bucked her hips in frustration, Andre was also semi lifting her and shoving her backwards so that Nessa’s feet were clearly off the floor, and the upper half of her body was precariously straddling the line of hanging off the other side of the desk. Nessa didn’t even have time to consider her new position because Andre’s breath ghosted over the lower half of her abdomen and then her panties were_ final-fucking-ly _being pulled down her legs._

_Andre didn’t waste any time by shoving her thighs apart, but he didn’t immediately go to where she was wet and throbbing for him. No, because he was a teasing bastard who gave not a single fuck about what Nessa wanted, Andre hovered over her belly button, tongue flicking around it before dipping inside. Nessa wriggled uncontrollably but found she couldn’t move like she wanted which was a goddamn bitch if you asked her. “Dreeeeeeeeeee,” she moaned, back curving upward into a near perfect arch as her fingernails scratched over his scalp. She felt him grin against her pelvis and had half the mind to tell him about himself, but then her legs were over his shoulders, his face in between her legs, and come on, how much complaining is anyone going to do when Andre Lyon was feasting on your cunt like it’s the last meal on earth?_

_Nessa let out a long, loud moan when Andre licked into her and sucked on her clit. Distantly, she recognized that the rest of the apartment was stunningly silent, which meant that Jamal was no longer in the living room and that he more than likely could hear her. Which should have been embarrassing; she actually liked the guy - but there was also only so much focusing she could give to that one fact because Andre flattened his tongue against her swollen clit and moved it up and down, and Nessa only had enough of an attention span to jerk in his hold and scratch at his shoulders, a choked cry on her lips._

_“All of this just for me?” He inquired, sliding two fingers in and spreading them before Nessa even knew what was happening, and she had a witty remark, she did. She had something for that ass, but then he spread his fingers and she was still clawing at whatever skin she could reach, hissing out. Without warning, Andre shoved them deeper into her wetness to a spot that made her see stars and Nessa cried out at the sharp burst of pleasure that flooded her veins while he growled, “Answer me.”_

_“Y-yeeeesssss, fuck...now now now now now.”_

_The words tumbled forth as she scrambled to sit up, lifting his face from her cunt so that she could kiss him, tasting herself on his mouth. Andre chuckled against her lips, so she kissed and kissed and kissed him, shaky hands roughly tugging at his belt and the button of his pants so she could get all of that unnecessary shit out of her way. After all, they were clearly in her fucking way and if he didn’t get in her in the next second, they were going to have a serious problem._

_“Impatient, much?”_

_“Fuck you,” she snapped and finally! Nessa threw the belt to the floor and impatiently tugged his pants down. “And always with the sass - has anyone told you about that?”_

_“Reckon I heard it about once or twice.”_

_He told her that with a grin that made her smirk in response, leaning up to kiss him again. Nessa didn’t bother looking down when his cock sprung from its confine and into her hand, but she did know that from gerth alone he needed to be inside of her as soon as possible. Andre hissed at the contact and she gave a teasing squeeze to the hot and hard shaft she held. Demanding, she hooked a leg over his hip and pulled him closer, positioning him at her entrance. The brief contact made them both hiss in pleasure, but Andre had to pull away - and damn him for it! - to be a bit more rational than her._

_“We should...protection…”_

_“Pill,” she assured him, hardly making as much sense as she should have for someone who typically was more responsible when it came to protection, but at the moment Nessa wasn’t thinking too clearly. She was just sure of two things: she was on the pill and sex needed to be happening because celibacy was a bullshit scripture lesson she should have never read. “I’m on the pill, ‘m safe.”_

_“Me too,” he breathed against her mouth and all things considered, that sounded good enough for Nessa because she pushed the head into herself, a sharp gasp of pleasure slipping past her lips at the intrusion. There was a twinge of discomfort - she hadn’t done this in awhile and especially not with something as large as he felt - but she persevered, hooking an arm around his shoulders so that she could use more strength and impale herself more on his dick. Andre groaned - more like growled - against her breath, breaking away from where they had been fused at their mouths, and grabbed her hips. She mewled when she felt his hips jerk against her own and she was shaking in his arms because of how full she felt, but it felt too good for her to even consider being self-conscious about it._

_A bright burst of pleasure shot behind her eyelids when Nessa rolled her hips experimentally and in response, Andre’s hips jerked forward, harder. She cried out and he must’ve taken note because before she knew it, Nessa was on her back once more, sliding up and down the cluttered surface as Andre rocked into her with hard, sure thrusts that hit her so deeply she was sure that it touched her womb. She writhed and whimpered and moaned, nails digging into whatever skin that she could find. She tightened her walls purposefully around him and grinned at his hiss of pleasure, but in retaliation, Andre hooked her legs over his arms, straightened up, and pounded into her so hard she was sure she’d feel him for the next week._

_Nessa was pretty sure she wouldn’t even complain._

_The room was soon filled with the wet, squelching sounds of Andre pistoning into her, along with her breathy moans and his grunts, and all too quickly, Nessa could feel the tightening in her core, whimpering as her pussy began to spasm around his cock. Sensing her approaching her orgasm, Andre gripped her thighs tighter, did a swirl thing with his hips that made her drool, and hit the place inside of her that made her cry out, “Dre!” Two more sharp, mind-blowing thrusts later and Nessa screamed out her release, shuddering and coming hard on his dick as she fell over the edge. Andre bit out a curse and a few minutes later, she whimpered and he let out a hoarse cry, a sob breaking forth when she feels him fill her. She didn’t realize when it happened, but at some point, they had both made it to the couch on the opposite side of the room, but by then Nessa settled for burrowing under the blanket Andre had found them. She figured she’d be able to deal with whatever guilt or apprehension she was supposed to be feeling in the morning. There was too much post-coital bliss to distract herself with._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so this is my first smut, ever. And technically, the way I always envisioned this story includes smut, so y'all be seeing more of my shitty writing as time passes. Another chapter should be up within the next few days.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so don't judge me, but I definitely shipped Nessa and Andre and still do. I actually hate what the hell they did to them because they could've been a very pure couple...well, as pure as two people who could be when they're trying to set fire to everyone else's shit so that Andre could take control of Empire. Nevertheless, this was just me wanting to write for them and get this story out of my head, so my failed ship can leave me alone. I will try to keep everyone as in character as I possibly can. The one thing I did change was Nessa's general appearance. As much as I love Sierra McClain, I kept re-envisioning Nessa as @fashooo_ on instagram. You can go there or copy and paste the following link into your browser (sorry not sorry, I just felt like we could have used more thick girls on the show):
> 
> https://scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com/t51.2885-15/sh0.08/e35/p750x750/15057199_1028276910633559_8179018715556216832_n.jpg?ig_cache_key=MTM5MjIzNTIwMzc2MTkxNjA4Mg%3D%3D.2&se=6
> 
> Anyway, I'm gonna try to make this a multi-chapter thing that I can stick with because I'm just getting back into writing and I have another idea for an entirely different fandom. So, please leave kudos and comments. I actually am so here for constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!


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